


Batman: Kiss Him, Not Me

by TowerofBabel



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Batman: Arkham - All Media Types
Genre: Dick Grayson Needs a Hug, Dick Grayson has a tight butt, Dick Grayson is Nightwing, Dick Grayson was once a stripper, Dick has to kiss a guy to avoid death, Harley Quinn is a manipulator, M/M, Multi, Police Officer Dick Grayson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:02:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27621092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TowerofBabel/pseuds/TowerofBabel
Summary: Dick Grayson agrees to be a server at his friend's nightclub for a night. The only thing is, Joker arrives with Harley, and Dick has to serve the villainous pair. Suddenly, Harley recognizes Dick from somewhere, but in order to avoid detection, he has to do something that he never thought he would to avoid the slaughter of every other patron in the club!
Comments: 2
Kudos: 43





	Batman: Kiss Him, Not Me

**Author's Note:**

> (AN: From my Batman Novel: "Joker's Folly", Chapter 6...I just thought readers would like a chapter to read apart from the book as a teaser).

Dick Grayson went back to Joker's table and served him and Harley their drinks and fries.

Condiments were already on the table. Harley immediately grabbed the salt and doused her fries heavily, then she took the ketchup and mustard, cupped them together, and squirted both all over them. The drinks, at the moment, were forgotten.

If he shared even the smallest dislike with Joker, Dick shared it now as both of them expressed disgust as Harley reached in and took a handful of fries and shoved them into her mouth, covering in globs of ketchup and mustard.

"That is disgusting, Harley," Joker said, sticking out his tongue.

Dick withheld a momentary smile. "I have a brother like that who eats the same way sometimes, never uses a fork." Dick handed Harley several napkins. She waved them off, but he put them on the table next to her.

Joker then remembered his drink and lifted the glass to his lips. "Ah! Delicious, my dear boy; simply divine," he said. "There's nothing more refreshing than liquor after a hard day's work at Financial and Interpersonal Relations."

"You work for a finance group, sir?" Dick obviously knew it was a lie, but he pressed for information. Maybe he could figure out who this "silent partner" was that Joker worked for. Joker was intelligent, but why would he be interested in a nightclub, unless he was partners with someone else who had an even better gain to make?

"Just something I dabble in," Joker said causally. "I'm in charge of a lot of money. I'm the associate to a larger firm." Joker told him the name of the firm and Dick immediately knew it was a front. He'd have to get Tim to check it out later if things went smoothly here and Jason didn't cause any trouble. Hopefully Paul was speaking to him now?

Dick didn't want to ask, but he needed to get more information. So he played it cool. "Who manages the firm, sir? I'm just curious, because I have some money stuffed away and I've been thinking of diversifying my portfolio for later years. We all grow older some time." Dick produced his best innocent fake smile.

"You're only as young as you feel, boy," Joker said with crooked smirk. "But maybe I'll put a bug in his ear about you. He could use an energetic young man like you as a Runner, he has businesses all over Gotham City, and some here in Bludhaven. His name is _Jack Filou_."

Dick swallowed. If he remembered his French, the word _Filou_ was trickster. Batman had figured out that Joker's real first name was "Jack" a long time ago, his last name eluded him. Dick now knew his friend was in bed with the devil in his nightclub, whether he knew it or now. _The Awakening_ may look like a legit business on the outside, but something was rotten at its core. He had to contact Bruce and tell him what was going on.

Just then, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Harley looking at him strangely and closely, what was known as the "stink-eye". She wiped her mouth, none of her white paint came off. _She must use a special remover_ , Dick thought.

She hadn't touched her Schnapps. He played to the role of innocent server, and asked Harley if her drink was to her liking. But she continued to stare at him, and directly into his eyes — her gaze penetrating and sharp. She ignored the question about the drink, but did say: "God, you look awfully familiar to me. It's those eyes — those baby blue eyes. They're so gorgeous, and I've seen them somewhere before. No one else has such beautiful eyes like that."

Dick couldn't think why Harley would pay attention to his eyes. Whenever he wore a mask, his eyes were behind white shields. They were standard with everyone within the Bat Family now. The masks also connected with the Batcomputer and when called upon provided readouts and two-way communication. Some people asked how they stayed on without any straps; they adhered to the skin with a special bonding agent that was non-abrasive.

Harley snapped her fingers, her eyes wide with revelation. "I got it! I knew I saw you some place before!" She put a hand over his eyes. Dick momentarily panicked. Did she recognize him as Nightwing? "Those clothes don't suit you, sweet-cheeks. I perfect you in a tiny little g-string."

"Huh?" Dick voiced. Even Joker voiced befuddlement.

"I saw your performance — well, I came back repeatedly to see it — at the Ariana Grande Strip Club in lower Gotham. Your name was _The Masked Marauder_ , and you wore a black mask. You hugged that pole like you owned it and wiggled your tight little caboose like no one can. H-O-T! _Hot, hot, hot!_ With that sexy body of yours, you could be making some real money in adult films rather than working in this club!"

Dick let out a breath of relief. Then he smiled. "I didn't think anyone would recognize me," he said. "Yes, I admit it. I did strip at that particular club for a time, but it was only to work my way through law school," he lied.

Joker raised his brow. "You're full of surprises, kid," he said. "Money to burn in financial portfolios and now law school. Quite a diversification, son, and you're working here? I know a distinct attorney who might be want to talk to. He's a little two-sided when it comes to the law, but he knows his stuff. Did you pass the bar exam?"

Dick didn't have to think hard about whom Joker meant. The "two-sided; district attorney" could only be Harvey 'Two-Face' Dent. And if anyone asked him a question about the law, he'd have to consult his special coin. He was always two-minds about every decision. One side of his coin was normal, but the other side was scratched to hell. Like two sides of his personality, Harvey Two-Face Dent was your classic split-personality disorder patient.

"No," he said to Joker's question. "I failed twice. I didn't have the knack. That's why I'm working here. Just started."

"On your second life then, I can admire that. Some people get that chance, but not everyone. I once knew this spoiled, rotten brat, who grew up to he a real jerk; really fowled mouthed, too." That would be Jason, Dick thought. "And every time we encounter each other, he tells me off, like a student who thinks I was the worse teacher in the world. When the kid was younger, I taught him a few things about respect. Obviously, it didn't stick."

Dick held his tongue. _You murdered him, you bastard! Do you what you put Jason through? How he had to crawl out of Hell to live again? I bet if Jason knew you were here, he'd beat your brains in, you son-of-a-bitch!_

Joker shrugged his shoulders. "Oh well… _C'est la vie,_ as the French say," he said, as if the whole _Jason Affair_ meant nothing to him, then took another sip of his Bourbon.

Dick suddenly flinched, and he quickly jerked, forward, turned and looked at Harley. She had somehow shifted in her seat without him noticing, and had just felt his butt. "Rock solid," she said. "There was a no-touch policy in that strip club, but there's nothing like that here, sugar-pie." She smiled at him. "I wonder what the other side looks like. Maybe later on, you can give me a private striptease show, honey? I'll pay for it, and I'll make it worth your while."

Dick wondered how many complaints the other Servers got with sexual related incidents? But he let it slide. _Don't make the psychopath angry._

"Oh, stop flirting with him, Harley," Joker said, not quite annoyed but a little jaunted. "He's obviously not interested, or he can't get involved with you — he's working. In fact, I think you frighten him." Joker chuckled.

Harley fluttered her eyes. Unlike his Nightwing mask, her eyes were exposed, encircled within her mask. "Aww…Do I frighten you, Server #17? You wouldn't be scared if you really got to know me." Then she waved him off. "Psst! You're too cute anyway. These days, guys like you are either taken or don't like girls. Times have really changed." Harley scooted back over to Joker, cupped his arm. "Mr. J is a real man, a man's man."

Joker smiled. "That's right, and I used to be married once, but she didn't like me much, so I had to divorce her after the accident." The accident that turned him into his current appearance, Dick wagered. He gave Dick a hard glare, as if a father was about to ask a serious question of his son. One of vital importance to ensue his stature within the family or be disowned. "Do you like men, son?" Joker asked curiously, hinting about Dick's sexuality based on his appearance and Harley's suspicions.

Dick's whole face went ashen. _No, I don't_ , he was about to say, when Paul came from around the corner. Dick gave his friend a quick glance, and with a shake of his head; the signal was clear he hadn't found Jason. Paul came to stand next to Dick, the booth drowning out most of the ambient noise with the special soundproofing walls.

"Hey Hudson," Joker then turned his attention to Paul, "you're one of them, someone who doesn't like girls, right?"

Calling Paul one of them was insulting, even in Dick's eyes, but with Joker, the comment had to slide.

"I'm gay, yes, sir," Paul replied. "Is there something I can help with?" he then said, ignoring the personal question, but regarding the service.

"Why? What's the attraction? I don't see it."

Paul looked at Dick — the look he gave to Dick was, "What brought this conversion on?" Dick shrugged — then he turned back. Paul replied, "I was born this way, there's nothing wrong which whom or what I like. I'm not flamboyant as some other people, but I like people who share my own interests. Gender is a term, a label — that's all it is. At one point, being gay was a taboo, even a criminal offence according to certain social, religious groups, but now it's accepted, and even praised. Not everyone has to like the way I conduct my life, but I don't care."

"Do you go to strip clubs?" Harley asked. "What kind of guys do you like? Call it an informational question."

Paul looked uncomfortable. But Dick could tell his friend was thinking about the question and whether or not he should answer. Paul was a guy shy guy, Dick knew, but if something was important, he'd voice his opinion. Suddenly he found his voice, "Well, to be honest, guys like…him." He turned to Dick. "The athletic, and yet book smart type."

 _An honest answer_ , Dick thought. Paul did ask him out when they were in the Bludhaven PD when he first came out. But he told his friend that he wasn't interested.

Harley said, "I have this wild fantasy where two guys kiss, make it happen." And suddenly, her hand disappeared below the table, then returned, and she produced the smallest pistol Dick had ever seen, one shot. She coveted it under her gloved hand, but obviously the threat was there. "Do it, or one of you gets a bullet in the lower region, if you know what I mean, and neither one of you will be able to have kids, ever!"

Paul gasped, Dick's eyes widened, as they snapped a look at the other. Joker said he didn't want to see it and put a hand over his eyes, but did say they better give her what she wanted; she wasn't kidding about shooting someone.

"I don't care who starts, but somebody better kiss somebody," she said, "on the lips, for at least ten-seconds. Go!"

This request went beyond Paul's instruction of catering to a guests' every whim, even to the so-called associate to his special partner, that now Dick knew was a farce. But if Harley started shooting, all hell would brake loose, and what if Joker had a gun, as well? There were no metal-detectors in the nightclub. Joker could also have other men stationed within the club disgusted as guests if something went wrong.

So, Dick was an impasse. And yet, who would it hurt? In his own history, he never once even thought about kissing another man. Some men acted to a curiosity and some men were bone straight, but when he looked at Harley, and knowing her history, she meant what she said. Dick Grayson protected people, he didn't put them in harms away. And there were over fifteen-hundred people that could be hurt if he didn't do this one simple thing to ease tensions. It would satisfy Harley enough and no one would care. Besides, no one was looking in this direction.

Paul looked at him, lightly shook his head. He knew Dick didn't want this.

But Dick plunged in anyway.

He grabbed Paul by the sides of the head and planted a kiss directly onto his friend's lips, and to make it appear more convincing-like, to satisfy Harley's unusual request, he moved his mouth around to get moisture. Paul's eyes widened with shock and he made a protest noise; their eyes locked, Dick made a reply noise, telling him not to pull away, and to go with it, even though it was forced upon them both.

She had to be persuaded to put the pistol away, Dick knew.

Dick had kissed a great many girls in his time, but this was the first guy. He didn't want to compare, but he used past experience to add the right amount of pressure to his friend's lips to give Paul a realistic sensation. Paul at first resisted, but then relented and accepted Dick's lips and reciprocated. He couldn't help it, and cupped his own hands around Dick's head, and kissed him with passion, like a lover would before, during, or even after the act of sex.

Paul pressed his lips harder. He was liking this too much, Dick knew, and he tried to brake away, but Paul wouldn't let him. His friend had fallen deep into the moment and because Paul had originally asked him out years before when they were in the BPD, this must have been a dream come true for him. It was a _Kiss Him, Not Me_ moment.

Paul was a good kisser, Dick couldn't deny that. And all of sudden, Paul's tongue slipped in Dick's mouth. Now Dick made a protest noise, but went with it to avoid suspicion he wasn't liking it—Paul was not obviously making it "convincing-like" for Harley. What would Barbara think if she saw this?

When they finally broke the kiss, a string of spittle bridged their lips, and Paul's face looked flushed, his eyes glassy. He panted, his temperature obviously up. Dick wanted to wipe his mouth of the moisture, but he felt it would then send a negative signal to Harley, and it might set her off. It was best to think both enjoyed it.

Harley waved a hand over his face like a fan. "Oh boy, that was good! _Hubba, hubba!_ One of my fantasies finally came true. I'm all a flutter. You two should do movies. You two passed my test. I wasn't sure about you," —she looked to Dick. "You were starting to sound a bit phoney shomney to me, and I can tell, with all this, 'I only stripped to become a lawyer crap, and now I work in a night club'…and after that, you're not straight. No straight guy accepts that much tongue if he doesn't like it. I know now I need to work harder. I see I have some stiff competition. And I do mean stiff."

Dick looked down and saw Paul's excitement, the front of his trousers bulged. Had his act been that convincing?

"Hows about the two of you join me for a workout session after the club closes? I might even turn one of you to my side of the pond?"

Joker lowered his hand. "Okay, Harley, I think that's quite enough. I feel like dancing, wanna join me?"

"After what I just saw, I'm willing for anything. It will be my honour, Mr. J."

And the two left their seats and headed off to the dance floor where they seemingly blended in with the crowd.

Paul put his hands to his face in what looked like shame. Dick looked at his friend, and asked if he was okay?

He sat down, the music was quieter in the booth. Dick sat across from him. "I'm so sorry, Dick. That was so wrong. I feel like I raped you. For that to happen was against so many rules. And for me to get so excited."

For a moment, Dick thought back to a case as Nightwing. He knew a thing or two about being raped, this didn't even come close. During one case, this crazy villainess who called herself Tarantula did the unthinkable and he was subjected to her sexual whims. It was a dark time for him. And other than a close few, he had told no one about it.

Dick reached across the table and put a comforting hand on his friend's shoulder. "Hey, it's not a big deal. Don't worry about it. I'm actually flattered." Dick laughed. "I know you've wanted to kiss me from the minute you came out to me. Was it everything you dreamed? I've never kissed a guy before. You're my first." Dick smiled, understandingly.

Paul looked at him, tears streaming down his cheeks. "Thank you, Dick," he said, "for not hating me. I'll make it up to you, I promise. This was not what intended or thought would happen when I asked you to work at the club tonight."

"Once again, Paul, it's no a big deal. We had to make it convincing for Harley." Dick didn't want to say it was just a kiss, because in Paul's eyes, it was probably meant much more than that. So, he left it at that.

"You're a good kisser," Paul remarked. "I bet all the girls love you!"

Dick laughed. "You have no idea; too many, in fact," he said with a large grin.


End file.
